The singer and the composer
by AnadoraBlack
Summary: Amelia Linski hated to be late. And now she was about to be, running into stairs towards the most important audition of her life. And bumping into a dark-eyed composer who treated people like shit didn't help... (A Salieri/OC, I couldn't help myself, sorry)
1. The singer and the composer

_A/N: I don't even know what took me. I mean, French is my mother tongue, I decide to write a one-shot to the best musical I've ever been to, meaning MOR, and I write it, and think it, in English. Right. Something is definitely missing in my head. ;)_

* * *

**The singer and the composer**

* * *

Amelia Linski hated being late. Being late meant being taken as a woman of poor virtue. Like that woman that the great Mozart had been courting ages ago. She had heard her older sister talk about it countless times.

So now, she was running into stairs – something clearly not safe when someone wore those insane heels – to get to her audition.

On her way up, she stumbled into someone.

Someone with dark, really dark eyes. And eyelashes. And hair. And clothes.

She gasped, and quickly curtsied. "Master Salieri."

He waved his hand in the air and passed her without a word.

Amelia growled between her breath.

And resumed running.

* * *

The audition was extremely hard. Amelia wasn't the only girl to be there by a mile, and she wasn't well-known in Vienna. At all. Which was normal, after all.

But as soon as she stepped into the light and planted her blue eyes into those of the great composer Mozart himself, she forgot she wasn't the favourite.

The words left her lips at the same time as the notes. German wasn't her mother tongue – French was – but she had been translated the song, and knew perfectly what it talked about: a lot love. The kind of passion you only lived once, which consumed your very soul, and when it was over, took a part of you with it.

The notes ended.

A general gasp rumoured through the room.

And Mozart – the Mozart, the actual Mozart – got up and clapped. Her. Clapped her. Amelia Linski.

"That was...breathtaking. Miss?"

Amelia cleared her throat. "Linski. Amelia Linski."

The grey gaze of the musician lit. "Russian?"

She nodded. "Half-Russian, sir, by my mother. Half-French by my father."

"Well, Miss Linski, congratulations, and welcome in the company. You'll be perfect as Juliet."

* * *

You read right.

Mozart had decided to rewrite Romeo and Juliet. In German. And in opera.

And now, Amelia was Juliet.

Oh crap.

* * *

It was only an hour later. Amelia had been sitting in a salon for what felt like an entire era, but who dared ask a composer to hurry?

The man himself escaped the room, and sauntered to her, a glittering vest thrown on his shoulders. "Amelia, isn't it?" She nodded and got up. "Come with me. My wife Constanze will receive you for diner, and I long to know all about you." He smiled at her and outstretched his arm.

Amelia took it, gasping at what she was currently doing.

"Have you come here alone?"

She nodded. "Yes. My...my parents are both dead, sir. I'm living with my elder sister and her husband, here in Vienna."

"This was really reckless. You won't do that again. I won't have my Juliet abducted, certainly not since she is quite as charming as the original."

Amelia giggled in pleasure. "You don't mean that, sir."

He stopped, and turned to her, his brow furrowed. "But I do! And stop calling me sir, I feel like an ancient thing waiting to be thrown away. Call me Wolfgang." Then he resumed walking. "Or Master, when in public. I guess calling Wolfgang in public wouldn't be seen properly."

Amelia nodded. "Very well...Master."

* * *

"How old are you?"

Out of the blue, that question took her off guard.

She only answered one they were in the carriage that awaited for Mozart outside the theatre. "I'm twenty."

"And still single? That's a blasphemy!" He chuckled. "Constanze will not hear the end of it. She will try and find you a husband by the end of the month." Then he winced. "She got that from her mother. Unfortunately."

Amelia grimaced. "Please tell her not to. I'm really not ready to marry."

A glint lit into Mozart's eye. "What? Never been courted, have you?"

She snorted, quite unwomanly. "Yes, I've been courted! But by...total idiots."

"Ah, women and their idea of love. The man shall be talented, handsome and intelligent, or they won't hear the end of it. Times have moved fast..."

She made a face. "Come one, you're not that old."

He grinned. "No. I'm 33, bless you, and this was exactly how women thought of love when I started courting them. I rather thought of your parents. Did they never try to marry you off to someone?"

Amelia shook her head. "No, never. And I thank them for that. They married for love."

Mozart's gaze darkened, for an unknown reason. "Wise decision."

* * *

They remained silent for a couple of minutes more, until he started questioning again.

"Then, if you are single and never were either engaged or married, your interpretation of Juliet's last song was impressive. You put so much feeling into this, I believed it."

Amelia smiled sadly. "That's because I knew what I was singing about."

He leaned in and grinned devilishly. "Oh, now I'm intrigued."

She sighed and sat back into her seat, smoothing her dress for good measures. "Well, I was fifteen, he was twenty-one, and a musician. I was dying for him to look at me, just to look at me. Everytime we'd be sitting next to each other, my skin burnt to touch his. It was hell."

"What happened?"

Amelia's smile turned seriously depressed. "He married my sister."

Mozart huffed. "What an imbecile." Then he took her hand. "I shall find you someone worth your time, Amelia Linski, if this is the last thing I do! My Juliet needs her Romeo, without the sad ending."

She smiled kindly. "I think Wolfgang, that you're starting to become the best friend I've ever had."

"Then you haven't had many friends, my dear."

"That I haven't."

"Another thing to change, then." He kissed her knuckles and suddenly, the door of the carriage slammed open. They were there.

* * *

Constanze Mozart was a middle-height, wavy blonde-haired woman, with a small blonde boy gripping her robes, the striking image of her father though.

She walked to her husband and kissed his lips before turning to Amelia. "Wolfgang, you didn't tell me we had a visitor."

He chuckled. "I told you I'd come home with a Juliet, and this is her. Amelia Linski, meet my beautiful wife, Constanze, and little Franz. Say hello to the lady, Franz."

The boy gripped his mother harder, and moaned.

"Oh, right." Mozart rolled his eyes and grasped Amelia's hand, pulling her towards the house. "Come inside, we'll eat and talk and sing and eat and drink and spend the night up."

Amelia shared a knowing look with Constanze.

"Yes, well, he'll fall asleep by midnight."

Amelia sighed in relief.

* * *

Constanze had herself cooked diner – being from a relatively poor family had conditioned her for hard work - which consisted into chicken baked with tomatoes and purée. With wine.

Amelia had eaten better, but seeing as it had been cooked with heart, she didn't think it inedible.

Then, soon after nine, Wolfgang pulled her out of her chair and towards his study, to show her his early notes on her role.

That's when Amelia started asking.

* * *

"Wolfgang, I was wondering..."

He turned to her from his desk. "Ask away, Amelia, ask away!"

She smiled shyly. "Uh...how to put this? Have you found your Romeo yet?"

"Ah!" His gaze turned devilish. "Wondering who you're going to live with for the best of this year and the next, yes?" He chuckled. "I haven't found him yet, but it won't take long now. I have my best man on it."

"Master Da Ponte?"

He snorted. "Lorenzo knows his things about music and stage, but nothing about a good performer. No, not Lorenzo. Antonio."

Amelia gulped. "Antonio. You mean-"

"Yes, the one and only Salieri. Didn't you know we're friends, now?"

She nodded. "All of Vienna knows."

"Then nothing to fear. Your fate is in capable hands."

* * *

But she couldn't concentrate after that.

The image of the handsome – evilly handsome – man clad in black played behind her eyelids, and soon, she was prying again.

"Will Master Salieri supervise the play, Wolfgang?"

Mozart sighed and put his head onto his hands. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're in love." Amelia gulped, but he didn't notice. "No. Antonio helps me for minor things. The Emperor doesn't like the fact that we're working together."

"Why not?"

"Because. Salieri isn't the favourite anymore. I am. And it means he isn't really welcome anywhere now."

"Oh."

Amelia's gaze settled down on her hands, and she bit her lips. She still had quite a few questions to ask.

Mozart chose otherwise.

* * *

"Tell me, have you met Antonio?"

Her eyes snapped up, and she realised he had stood up and moved before her, clearly curious now.

Amelia nodded. "Briefly. While coming to the audition. I...I might have stumbled onto him on my way up."

"Ah, I see." He pointed a finger in her face. "And he waved your excuses away, like the gentleman he is, and now you hate him. Pure Antonio."

* * *

That's when Constanze opened the door, little Franz still glued to her. "Darling? Antonio's at the door. He says he's found your Romeo."

"At this hour?" Mozart hurried to the door, following his wife.

Half on his way down the stairs, he turned to Amelia, who was following, thinking of this opportunity to go home. "Do not even think of fleeing."

* * *

Master Salieri was clearly more friendly with Mozart than he had been years prior, when the young composer had arrived in the capital.

He was then sitting in the living-room, a pile of notes in hand.

And he was eyeing Amelia weirdly.

Which didn't go unnoticed.

"Oh, I think you've met our Juliet!" Mozart stormed in with a platter of drinks – absolutely not drinks to drink at that hour of the night when you were twenty. "Amelia Linski. Apparently, you've been into some kind of situation earlier at the theatre."

Salieri's alrealy dark eyes seemed to even darken. "Oh, yes. I remember now." Then his gaze left Amelia for good.

She gritted her teeth, and her hands balled into fists.

What an infuriating man!

* * *

Midnight rang.

And Constanze burst into the room, in her nightgown and a jacket over it.

"Wolfgang! For God's sake, Amelia needs to leave, now!"

Mozart seemed to snap out of the daze he constantly was in, and his eyes widened. "Oh, God, yes. Amelia, I'm so sorry."

He stood up, and turned to Salieri, who hadn't moved an inch. "I suppose you can't give her a lift, Antonio?"

The dark eyes didn't leave the note their were reading. "Absolutely not."

Amelia snorted. Openly, this time. "Yes, well, for a famous composer, you seem like a total idiot to me."

Salieri's gaze snapped at her, and reflected her glare at once. He didn't answer.

Mozart did. With a chuckle. "Well well, seems you won't be marrying our Amelia, Antonio!"

Then he pushed her by the small of her back before she said another word.

* * *

As soon as she was sitting in Mozart's carriage, Amelia's hand shot to her mouth.

She had just been snapping to the great Antonio Salieri.

Like that. Without any...warning.

She was an idiot.

She was an idiot for snapping like that.

And she totally was an idiot for thinking he was even more handsome when glaring at her.

Darn.

* * *

Weeks passed by, and Amelia never saw the likes of Salieri ever again. Even if she was then spending most of her spare time at the Mozarts, since Wolfgang either drive her back there after rehearsals, or she was going to visit Constanze.

The black-eyed composer rarely left her mind though.

She couldn't believe how obsessed she was with the man after he had been so...disagreeable.

Mozart found it adorable though.

Decided against all odds to get them to marry each other before the end of the year.

Which seemed impossible, since he avoided the likes of her with his life.

* * *

Soon, it was the première of Romeo and Juliet.

Paolo, the Italian-born singer she was playing opposite to, arrived late, as usual, and Amelia found herself snapping again.

"And what hour do you think this is?"

He turned to her, half-dressed, and glared openly. "Scusa, mi amore, but my maestro had to pick me up e he was late."

She huffed. "And who's this maestro of yours, Paolo? God?"

He chuckled. "You are such a child." He walked to her and took her chin between his fingers. "I came with Maestro Salieri, you _imbecile_."

Her heart missed a beat. "Salieri? I mean, the Master Salieri is here?"

"You didn't think he'd miss the première of his friends' stageplay, did you?" He snorted, and went back to dressing.

Amelia thought of running out of the theatre for a split second.

Then out-thought herself off it.

He despised her, so be it.

She'd despise him.

* * *

Amelia had died on stage now minutes prior, and at that moment, she was hugging Constanze backstage.

"You were amazing darling. Really amazing."

Amelia's smile didn't fade. "Thanks Constanze."

"And guess who's here to congratulate?" She moved aside.

Revealing Wolfgang, of course.

And Salieri.

Whose black eyes locked to hers as if she was the light and he the moth.

"I think I might have missed an opportunity when I married Constanze. I should have married you instead."

Constanze nudged her husband. "Say that again."

He chuckled. "I'm joking." He pecked her wife on the lips. "But Amelia, you were...beautiful. If you don't receive ten proposals by the end of the night, I might kill people." Then he turned to Salieri. "Beginning with you, Antonio. Come on, propose to her, let me see that look on your face when she says no."

Amelia's heart stopped beating for a second.

Salieri merely rolled his eyes. "You are astonishingly funny, tonight."

"I know. Let's drink to that!"

* * *

Being squeezed next to the man you kept thinking about in a carriage wasn't Amelia's idea of the perfect journey back to Mozart's house.

Especially since she kept bumping into him everytime the carriage hit a hole in the road.

She felt fifteen again.

Her skin felt too tight, and ached for his to touch her. Her breath caught everytime she looked at him.

She felt patheticly in love. With a musician again.

And again with a musician who didn't like her back.

* * *

"Stop with the grim faces, you too, or I shall take my clothes off."

Amelia sighed. "Please don't. I've seen enough horrors for tonight."

Mozart chuckled. "How's that?"

She smirked. "I've seen Paolo shirtless."

Even Constanze laughed to that.

Only Salieri didn't.

"Antonio, seriously, he's a prodigious singer, but I don't know how this man can be more of an idiot than he already is."

Salieri sighed. "I know, Wolfgang. That's not why I hired him."

"Or say it was precisely why you hired him."

"If you say so, old friend."

But something told Amelia Mozart wasn't done with his conspiracy yet.

She was right.

* * *

Right after drinking one glass of wine, she found herself alone in the sitting-room, since Constanze had left to take her sons to bed, and Wolfgang had left for "unattended business".

The tension was so thick that after ten minutes of wait, Amelia got up and walked to the door.

He stopped her with his deep baritone voice. "You were quite good tonight."

She couldn't believe her ears.

Whirling around, her hand still on the doorknob, Amelia's eyes narrowed. "Quite good? That's all? I was _quite_ good?"

She glared openly now.

So did he.

When he stood up and walked to her.

Oh crap.

"You are barely twenty. Did you think you'd be as good as Miss Cavalieri?"

Amelia snorted. "No, never. But I think quite good might be similar to horrid in your mouth."

"And why's that?"

He towered over her now.

His dark eyes boring into her soul.

Dear Lord.

* * *

"You don't like me, Master Salieri. You've never liked me, I get that. So don't even bother trying to compliment me, it sounds forced. Which it is."

"It's not forced."

She huffed. "Please! You're only doing this – staying in this room with me – to please Wolfgang. Don't even try to deny it."

"I'm denying it."

She didn't see it coming.

When the space between their bodies reduced to none, and his lips touched hers softly.

* * *

She needed to breathe.

She knew she needed to breathe.

And close her eyes.

She was perfectly sure that being kissed by a man with your eyes open wasn't that right thing to do.

So Amelia closed her eyes.

And enjoyed the feeling of being kissed.

By a musician that maybe liked her back.

Her hands went up to his neck, caressing the base of his smooth jet black hair.

Salieri's lips moved like his fingers must have done on a piano: softly, as if he was cherishing an instrument.

Which she was, in a manner of speaking.

* * *

Then Salieri pulled away.

His dark eyes once again boring into Amelia's soul.

"I am definitely denying it, Miss Linski."

And with those words, he exited the room.

Just like that.

* * *

When Wolfgang came back into the room, he found Amelia in tears, still standing beside the now open door.

He hurried to her. "What happened? What is the matter?"

She sobbed. "I'm in love with Salieri."


	2. The singer and her composer

_A/N: It was meant to be a one-shot. Clearly it'll be a little longer than just that... :)_

* * *

**The singer and her composer**

* * *

Amelia stayed at the Mozarts' that night. And the night after.

In fact, Wolfgang sent a letter to her sister, asking for Amelia to move in permanently. She had said yes, after being informed Wolfgang had a wife and lived with her full time.

Amelia felt broken.

Utterly and completely broken.

* * *

She hadn't told Wolfgang what had transpired between her and Salieri that night – she didn't need to really – and had spent most of her night crying.

Crying for what, she didn't remember. I mean, she had been kissed by a man she now knew she was in love with. She shouldn't have cried.

Except she knew that kiss was the sole one she'd receive from him.

Salieri wasn't a man to ever marry, Wolfgang had said so himself.

* * *

The following plays of Romeo and Juliet were full of tears on Amelia's account, but seeing as her character needed to be teary, none ever asked why she had turned into a living fountain.

A week after the night of the première, Wolfgang received a note from a page.

He read it aloud to Amelia, and he seemed displeased. Extremely displeased.

"_Wolfgang, I would appreciate if you came visit me tonight in my chambers at court. Alone. There's a matter that needs to be talked about, between two composers. Please come. Antonio._"

He crumpled the paper and threw it into the fireplace. "What the hell is he thinking? Never once since I know him have I gone to his place. He's always come here. To teach the boys, to talk, to dine with us. There is something really off with him, and I'll know what."

Wolfgang strode across the room and slammed the door open, then turned back to Amelia, who hadn't moved.

"Are you coming or not?"

She stood up, then her brow furrowed. "But, he said to come alone."

"I'll be alone. You'll wait outside. Constanze is at her mother's, and there's no way on earth I'm leaving you alone with the boys."

She smiled faintly. "Thanks. I'll grab my cloak, then."

But internally, her heart beat painfully hard. She'd go near Salieri for the first time since he had kissed her. And ran away from her.

She really needed to get a grip.

* * *

The journey from the Mozarts' mansion to the Emperor's palace was a little longer than the one to the theatre, and by the time they arrived, it was really late.

A page received them at the door.

Mozart stomped. "I'm here to see Maestro Salieri."

The page bowed. "And the young lady, sir?"

"She'll wait at the door."

He bowed again and then gestured them forward.

* * *

Amelia would have thought that court would have been empty at this hour, but far from it. Each and every courtier was out and about, some with a bottle or glass in hand, others shamelessly kissing or courting in public.

Amelia blushed and cast her eyes down, following her friend and their guide.

Wolfgang seemed unimpressed by all that. Which wasn't surprising. He had probably done it all in his own time.

Salieri lived far from the heart of the palace, in the artists' aisle. Amelia heard that Maestro Stefani was living not far, and as she liked the man to no end, she hoped he'd come out and say hello.

Her heart threatened to burst out of her chest with every pace she took closer to Salieri's chambers.

Then, at last, the page stopped.

He turned to Amelia. "Miss, if you'd please wait here." Then he opened the door, and Wolfgang followed after throwing her a kind smile.

Of the quarters, she saw nothing, as the rooms were swallowed in the dark.

What she caught was the sound of a piano playing with a dexterity that left little imagination to who was playing it.

* * *

"And what is a pretty little thing like you doing in such a dark corner at night?"

Amelia's thoughts snapped off her current appreciation of the place, to see a courtier standing not far from her, a flirtatious smirk plastered on his lips.

He was not ugly, far from it, with a big blue eyes and his perfectly trimmed wig. He wore a golden attire and was faintly powdered.

She curtsied, though in other circumstances she wouldn't have addressed a stranger. "I'm waiting for my friend."

The man's eyes darted to the door in front of which she stood. "Oh. Are you one of those numerous women to be infatuated with Master Salieri?" He took a pace forward. "You don't seem like it."

Amelia blushed at that, both because it was a little true, and because he had no right to address her thus. "I'm waiting for Maestro Mozart. I live with him."

The man's eyes widened in admiration. "You are Juliet. I knew I had seen those eyes somewhere before." Then he bowed. "My name is Heinz Rosenthal. I've seen the play at the première."

She smiled faintly and curtsied again. "Nice meeting you Sir. Amelia Linski."

"Well, Miss Amelia, would you agree if I spent a little of my time with you?"

She furrowed her brow. "Have you not somewhere else to be?"

"Unfortunately, I have. But I'd rather stay here with a true artist."

To that he settled his back onto the wall next to her, and crossed his arms.

"So...how have you met the great Mozart?"

* * *

The Sir Rosenthal was an agreeable person, passed the shameless flirting.

Amelia and him kept talking about Wolfgang, his work, and how Paolo was insufferable for long moments.

And then Salieri's door slammed open, and the Maestro himself burst into the corridor, Wolfgang behind him.

His dark eyes settled on Amelia, then on the man accompanying her.

She snapped off her surprise and curtsied. "Master Salieri."

He didn't even spare her a glance. "Herr Rosenthal. What a surprise."

His deep voice was clearly annoyed by the courtier's presence.

Who stepped forward, a smirk back onto his lips. "Maestro. I kept this young lady company during your and Maestro Mozart's meeting."

Wolfgang stepped out of Salieri's shadow. "That was thoughtful of you." He walked to Amelia, took her arm, and pulled her to his and Salieri's side. "Good evening now, sir."

Rosenthal's smirk didn't faint.

He walked to Amelia and grasped her hand, kissing her knuckles. "I will come and visit you backstage sometime." He then winked at her and strode away.

Salieri's eyes followed him the entire time. And when he disappeared, his dark eyes met Amelia's blue.

Before she could even utter a word, he entered his rooms again and closed the door behind him.

Amelia gasped under his animosity. She hadn't deserved it. At all.

Wolfgang sighed and pulled her away. "Come, darling. It's late. And he's in no mood."

* * *

Later, much later, he'd finally tell her that Herr Rosenthal was one of Rosenberg's spies. And Rosenberg, to everyone's knowledge, hated Mozart. With his guts.

The following days passed quietly.

Until one evening, after the play, Amelia was paid a visit backstage.

Herr Rosenthal hadn't broken his promise, after all.

"Miss Juliet, you look splendid. And might I add that you've played the part even better than the first time."

Amelia blushed under the compliment, and her hairdresser exited the room to give the visitor and the singer a little time alone. "This is very nice of you to say, sir."

He chuckled. "You should consider stopping calling me sir, Miss Amelia. Call me Heinz. Please."

She felt the blush intensify. "Very well... Heinz."

He grinned, highlighting his perfect teeth. "Good. Now... Let's talk. What's between you and Salieri?"

Amelia's eyes widened. "Pardon?"

The grin didn't fade. "You heard me. When I met you, he clearly was extremely upset that I was spending time with you. Would he like you by any chance?"

She longed to say yes. She wanted to. But she couldn't. Because, to be honest, she had no idea whatsoever.

"I doubt he does, Heinz. Wolfgang and he are just a little wary of you. With reason."

"Ah. So they told you who I worked for." He grinned wider. "I hope you understand that's not why I approached you."

She shrugged. "I didn't know, really. For all I know, you could very well be here to try and break my heart so I can't perform anymore."

"And that would be clever." Her eyes snapped at his, but he was still grinning. "But I wouldn't do that. Because it would be cruel, and I have a feeling your heart has already been broken."

Amelia said nothing.

Which confirmed his words.

Then, Rosenthal stood up. "I will leave you now. I guess if Maestro Mozart sees me alone with you he'll see red. I will come again another time. Until then," he leaned down and kissed her knuckles again, "do not forget me."

* * *

Wolfgang appeared not minutes later.

He kissed Amelia on the cheek, a huge smile gracing his kind face. "Amelia, my darling, you have been magnificent tonight. And I have a big big news for you."

She stoop up and grinned. "And what would that be, my friend?"

He took her hands and made her twirl around the room. "We've been invited to dine at court tomorrow! With Joseph II! And his courtiers, of course, including that spy that has been hitting on you."

She sighed. "And Salieri."

Mozart echoed her sigh. "You two really need to speak of things. You've both been sulking in a corner since that night I left you alone. And you never even told me what had happened anyway."

Amelia freed her hands and turned around to grab her purse and cloak, hiding the tears that threatened her eyes. "Nothing. I told you already. Nothing happened."

* * *

So the following evening, Wolfgang put on his most sparkly vest above his usual baroque shirt and leather pants, while Amelia wore a dress that matched his colour. Between purple and pink.

Her hair had been pushed up by Constanze, and curled around the ears. She had put on some light make-up to highlight her eyes, and that was all.

She didn't know who she wanted to impress the most. The Emperor, Rosenberg, or Salieri.

Because, to be honest, she thought that Heinz would have been impressed whatever she wore.

* * *

The page that received them at the palace's doors brought them higher than ever into the maze of staircases and corridors, until they reached "The green room".

Which was of a light green similar to the one called "vert d'eau" in France.

The Emperor himself was clad in a regal blue, as was Rosenthal not far. Rosenberg was as always wearing his deep blood-red, and Salieri, his beloved black.

Seeing him again after the short encounter they had the last time they met was painful to Amelia. Especially so when he avoided looking at her.

After she was introduced to the Emperor, Amelia was sat on His Majesty's left, next to Rosenthal, and facing Wolfgang, who was neighboured with Antonio.

* * *

The diner went on, quietly, and Joseph II seemed to be really impressed with the fact that Amelia's voice came from her mother alone, since she had never taken any lessons.

It went on also with Heinz shameless flirting, as always, though this time Amelia noticed how his blue gaze searched for Salieri everytime she smiled or laughed at something he had said.

Wolfgang, on the other hand, was properly glaring at the man.

Which didn't go unnoticed.

"Tell me, Maestro, there is a rumour spreading here at court. A rumour concerning yourself and this adorable young lady."

Wolfgang's grey eyes settled onto the Emperor. "And what would that rumour be, Your Majesty?"

Joseph II grinned devilishly. "That she is your mistress."

Amelia gasped. Salieri stopped his talk with his other neighbour, Rosenberg. The whole table went silent.

Until Wolfgang burst into laughs. "Amelia, my mistress? That is properly hilarious, Your Majesty! Hilarious!" He kept choking for a long minute, until he retrieved his tongue. "No, Amelia is a very good friend, and I consider her the little sister I never had. That is why I'm over-protective of her, I suppose."

To that their host laughed too. "Well then! Herr Rosenthal here is a very good match, if you want my opinion."

Wolfgang gritted his teeth, though keeping a false smile on his face. "I do not doubt he is. But I know that Amelia's heart is already taken."

Amelia's eyes locked onto Wolfgang's. She wore a warning in that glance.

And didn't dare looking over at Salieri in fear of being discovered.

"Well then, Heinz, poor you, it seems that battle you're fighting is bound to be lost."

Rosenthal chuckled, undeterred. "We shall see, Your Grace."

* * *

The rest of the diner passed by, the subject of Amelia's love life all but forgotten.

Once everyone had eaten, the group moved to "The Green Salon" where some entertainers were dancing.

Heinz offered Amelia a dance, after which she settled back onto a couch and didn't move again.

Before her eyes, Salieri was talking, a smile gracing his lips, with a dangerously spidery woman.

Her blood heat rose at that scene, but she didn't say.

She didn't need to.

* * *

"Do you want to go home, darling?"

Her eyes cast up where Wolfgang was leaning over her, not taking any of her false smiles.

She shook her head. "Not yet. Go. Talk. Have fun. Do not let the love-struck girl deter you." She shot him a genuine smile, and he understood that his earlier words about what he felt for her had been well taken.

* * *

A little after midnight, though, Amelia felt faint. Really faint.

She needed to walk, to move away from the crowd. Sometimes she had that sort of moments.

So she got up, excused herself from the Emperor, and went to wander through the corridors.

Her feet brought her to the artists' aisle.

As she stopped right before Salieri's door, she could feel her heart twitch.

What was she to do? He was downstairs, having fun with a carnivorous woman, and his chambers were locked for sure anyway.

So she cursed herself when she put a hand on the doorknob, and it turned.

* * *

The living-room was empty.

Literally so.

No table, no chairs, no furniture.

Only a piano.

Black as everything Salieri seemed to own.

Amelia caressed the instrument, then sat at the stool.

The last partition he had been working on was called "Per Julia". A lump formed in her throat at the thought he might have found a muse after all, then her fingers found the ivory of the keyboard.

The first notes of "Ah! vous dirais-je Maman!" echoed into the empty room.

"What are you doing here?"

* * *

Amelia's hands froze onto the piano.

His deep voice wasn't coming from the door at all.

It was coming from right behind her.

So she stood up really fast, and whirled around.

In the faintly lit room, Salieri's face was looking dangerous. Lethal. Dark and without safe issue.

To Amelia, he only looked more handsome, if that was possible.

* * *

She blushed a little at her mistake. "I am sorry. I wondered where you lived, and thought you'd be downstairs."

"I was, then I saw you leave and worried."

Amelia's eyes met his. "You worried?"

Salieri seemed to realise what he had just said, and backed away. "Of course. You are one of Wolfgang's closest friends, he would be devastated to lose you."

She huffed a little. "Of course. For Wolfgang's sake."

"It doesn't change the fact that you shouldn't be here."

"Neither should you."

His eyes widened. So did hers. "What do you mean?"

Amelia's eyes downed onto her hands. "Nothing. I...don't remember what I had meant."

* * *

A long silence stretched, during which Amelia couldn't give herself the strength to look back at him again.

After a long pause, Salieri sighed, and she heard him walk away. "I will go back to the party, and tell Wolfgang you are here. Play the piano as much as you like. I don't mind."

Amelia's eyes finally zeroed back onto his. "Thank you..._Antonio._"

The name left her lips effortlessly, as in a prayer. Somehow, she wished he'd understand that situation was killing her.

He understood.

She thought.

For he stopped right at the door and turned around to look at her again.

* * *

This was it.

Her moment.

If she had to do something, it was now.

So Amelia walked up to the composer, carefully, slowly, and brought a hand to his bearded cheek.

"I have missed you, Maestro."

His eyes closed, and he sighed. "You shouldn't say that."

"And yet it is true."

And before he could say another word or even open his eyes, Amelia pushed herself onto her tiptoes and covered his lips with her own.

* * *

Salieri was stunned, she could tell by the way his body frowned the moment she kissed him.

But as he had done when he had kissed her, she didn't move from where she was, and kissed him as if her life depended on it. Showing him how much she cared. How much it killed her never to see him again. Him and his infuriatingly good looks.

And after a long moment of wait, Salieri's arms closed around Amelia's waist, and he kissed her back.

With a passion he didn't have the first time. With a passion she doubted he ever had before.

When a soft sound escaped Amelia's lips when he pulled her to him, Salieri's answer was to pull away and push his forehead to hers.

"Miss Linski, we really should head back downstairs."

She grinned, her eyes still closed. "I know."

Then her lips found his again, like a magnet.

Like the fingers of a pianist finding the right keys at the perfect time.


End file.
